The Glue Police
by You'reMyKindOfTrouble
Summary: Set in 'The Farm' arc. Silly Caryl fluff with a cameo appearance by Caleb! "I don't think 'glue police' is a thing…" Caleb hummed. "It's not a job you can be in." Daryl stared at him in shock. "Whadd'ya mean?" He gaped. "The hell am I wearin' this stupid hat for, then?" He whipped the hat off his head. It was a paper pirate's hat, with 'Glue Police' written on it in sparkly pen.


**I should be studying.**

**(I don't own TWD or Bad Lip Readings. If I did Caryl would be so, so canon it would be called The Walking Caryl and then all the Bethylers would get mad and not watch my show so I would eventually go broke and resort to writing fanfiction again... Funny how things go full circle!)**

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><p>"That's too much glue, Dad!" Caleb exclaimed, lying on his tummy on the kitchen floor. Daryl was lying on his side next to him, propped up on his elbow as he 'helped' the little boy with his homework. His task was to make a poster on growing plants, and Daryl was helping him glue his selection of pressed leaves and drawings onto a sheet of chipboard, sprawled across the linoleum in an attempt to escape the oppressive heat outside.<p>

"How do you know?" He shot back. "You ain't the glue police!" He pressed the leaf to the board and watched the glue ooze out the sides. "A'ight, maybe a lil' bit much." He shrugged. "I'm still in charge of the gluin', round these parts though," He warned. "Your Ma'll kick our asses if we got paste all over her floor."

"I don't think 'glue police' is a thing…" Caleb hummed. "It's not a job you can be in."

Daryl stared at him, mouth falling open in shock. "Whadd'ya mean?" He gaped. "The hell am I wearin' this stupid hat for, then?" He whipped the hat off his head. It was a paper pirate's hat, made from folded old newspapers, with the words 'Glue Police' written on it with glittery blue marker. Carol had made it after returning to the schoolroom after a few minutes to find copious amounts of glue, far more than could ever be necessary, forming great blobs on the children's art projects. Whenever glue was involved, someone had to be nominated the 'glue police' to prevent such a sticky disaster from occurring again.

Caleb cackled and carefully applied two dots of the glue to the back of a drawing.

Daryl lay on the floor and watched him work. The little boy had an unruly mess of dark auburn curls and one missing front tooth, which showed when he smiled. His unusual eyes, blue-green and luminous, were currently focused intently on the project ahead of him. He thought the boy had Carol's cheekbones, but she insisted they were his. He had the small, dark beauty spot above his lip, identical to Daryl's, and the smooth flawless skin of a child. Daryl's chest constricted painfully at the innocence of his son, chattering about edible plants and what he'd learned in class that morning.

Carol clattered in, her arms full of small kindling wood which she dumped in the basket by the stove.

"Left you a cold drink in th'icebox." Daryl offered as she flopped into a chair at the table, a little flushed from the heat.

"Thanks." She said, smiling at their efforts at making art, currently scattered across the floor. "Are you two having fun?"

"I'm the 'glue police'." Daryl supplied. "Somebody almost got sent to glue jail for serious crimes against the paste rations but I calmed it down 'fore shit could get too serious." He snickered when Carol nodded seriously.

"Dad!" Caleb scolded. "Language!" The frown he was giving was somewhat negated by the toothless grin he couldn't contain. "He said 'ass' before, Mama." He informed, looking very disappointed in his father's foul-mouthedness.

"Well," Carol said, very solemnly. "He and I are going to have a very serious discussion about his behavior later."

Daryl wriggled his eyebrows at her in a lascivious fashion and she almost lost her composure, but she managed to frown at him despite the smile that threatened.

"Is it done yet?" Caleb asked, hoisting himself up wit the table and standing his project up the right way.

"Does it have labels?" Carol asked, sipping the cold apple juice made from their apple orchard, diluted with some well water to make it go further.

"Uh huh!" Caleb sang.

"The hell kinda word is that?" Daryl asked, nudging the boy's foot with his own. "Use your real words."

"Yes ma'am." Caleb re-answered, giggling as he saluted Daryl. "Sir, yes Sir!"

"Go on and take that to Miss Rachael, sweetheart," Carol smiled at his antics. "She's in the school room. I'm proud of your _wonderful_ art… Even if Daddy helped you a little." She teased. Caleb hoisted his project and staggered out the door and down the front steps, tottering under the weight of the board but cheerfully denying any help as he wobbled towards the barn that housed the library-slash-classroom. "I can't believe that 'glue police' nonsense actually worked." She laughed softly as she toed her boots off from her seat at the table and ran her toes over his hip. "I'm honestly just glad my floor made it out alive."

"Was a near thing, I'm tellin' you. I had to wear that fuckin' hat to make a point an' even then it just barely worked." He snickered, grabbing her foot and yanking playfully. She poked him in the stomach with her toes and rose to rinse out her glass in the bucket of water in the sink. "Come on down here," He said, reaching for the hem of her cargo pants from his place on the floor. "'S nice an' cool…" He prompted.

She cocked her hip and laughed at him as he lay on his side, making a half-hearted grabby-hand towards her. He was a little flushed from the heat and she could feel her shirt sticking to her back. He did look awfully comfortable and the coolness of the floor felt good against the soles of her feet. "I'm not sure how that would look, Daryl. Two grown adults lazing around on the kitchen floor?"

"Never said anythin' 'bout bein' lazy." Daryl smirked at her. She wrinkled her nose at him even as she knelt on the linoleum, before settling on her stomach, spread-eagled to cover as much of the cool surface as possible. She pressed her cheek against it, looking at him as she sighed in relief.

"You're terrible." She mumbled. "But I'm so attractive right now I can't really blame you."

To her surprise, that made him laugh aloud. Her face was a little smooshed against the floor, and sweat dotted her hairline. She looked disheveled and too hot but he rolled over so he matched her position next to her and snickered.

"Damn straight you are." She snorted gracelessly and eyed him. "I mean it." He said after a pause.

"You're not so bad yourself, Dixon." She replied, lifting her head a little and resting her cheek on her forearm. He huffed and she smiled. "Rory's supposed to be coming for a play-date at four, so I should probably sort out some snacks soon."

"Soon," He agreed. "But not just yet. Stay here for a while an' cool off with me." His hand snuck over and landed on the small of her back, as if he was prepared to hold her in place.

She stretched and shifted a little closer to him. "I could probably stay for a little while." She mused playfully. "If I had a good enough reason." He rolled onto his side, pulling her to his chest slowly, his hand on her hip sliding her across the linoleum until she was pressed against him. She giggled the whole time, covering her face with her hands.

"This good enough?" He murmured as he shifted so he was looming over her.

"Hmm…" She teased. "I don't think so."

"Hows about now?" He tried after kissing her slowly. When he pulled away, he was knocked by the disappointed expression on her face. "Uh oh."

"It's too hot for this." She said regretfully. "Get off me." She patted his chest and he sighed and did as he was told.

He realised she was right when the air around his body felt so much cooler once there was some space between them. "Shit," He sighed. "This weather's bullshit."

He glanced over at her, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling. He was mirroring her pose again, watching her to see if she was genuinely offended. When she rolled her head towards him she sighed in disappointment before offering him a smile. He quirked his lips back but didn't move.

"Mama?" Caleb called from the front porch after a few minutes, his project safely delivered to the classroom. They heard the _thud-thud _of his little boots being kicked off before he ran up the hallway, skidding in his socks on the wooden floor and into the kitchen. Daryl grinned at his enthusiasm and the way he skated across the smooth surface, making whooshing noises under his breath. "Did you remember Rory's coming over?"

"I did, sweetheart, don't you worry. What's the time? He's supposed to be here at four o'clock."

There was a pause while the boy eyed the clock uncertainly. "The big hand's on the, uh… After the ten… And the little hand's almost at the four."

Daryl sat up, stretching to look over the tabletop to the clock on the opposite wall. "Y'remember how to read the minutes?"

"Uh…" The boy stopped, clearly wracking his brains. "It goes up in fives but I can't remember them all…" He mumbled.

"That's a'ight," Daryl reassured him. "It's five to four, so if y'go an' wash up there might be a snack waitin' on you an' Rory by the time you get back."

Caleb scurried off to go wash his hands in the communal bathroom, with a cry of "I'll go to Aunt Maggie's in case they forgot!" as he jammed his feet into his cowboy boots and thumped down the front steps. Daryl clambered to his feet and offered Carol a hand up, which she used to hoist herself upright again.

"Are you rostered on tonight?" She asked as she dusted her palms on her pants, despite the fact that the floor was spotlessly clean.

"Nope. Glenn's gonna take the boys out to catch lightnin' bugs once it's dark, swapped a shift with Ty so we could go watch. That a'ight?"

"That," She smiled, pecking him on the jaw and setting about slicing some fruit for the boys to eat. "Is more than alright. I was a little worried, you know, that they wouldn't get along."

"Caleb an' Rory?" Daryl asked in surprise. "They're damn near joined at the hip. Have to pry the lil' bastards apart some days."

"I know!" Carol laughed. "It's sweet. I just had this horrible idea they'd grow up without a best friend if they didn't have each other."

He watched her at the bench, her back to him as she arranged the apple and peach slices on a plate and huffed at the mental stress she placed upon herself sometimes. "Y'worry too much, Carol."

"Well, I either worry about Caleb or I worry about Mika." She said lightly.

"Why?" He asked warily. "What's wrong with Mika?"

"Nothing's wrong with her, Daryl." She reassured him, wiping the bench down of any drops of fruit juice.

"Nuh-uh." He folded his arms. "What's she doin' for you to be worried 'bout?"

"It's nothing to worry about, per se…" Carol hedged, turning to face him and leaning on the bench. "Her and Carl are getting awfully close, is all. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about but it makes me a little nervous."

"Swear to God, if that lil' asshole knocks her up-" Daryl started but was interrupted by Carol's silent look of amusement, complete with pursed lips and an irresistible little smile. "What?"

"She's not going to get _pregnant_, Daryl! She's fifteen… I'm just worried she's going to get her little heart broken or something. She's our little girl; I don't want to see her get hurt."

"Kid ain't stupid enough to do anythin' to her." Daryl said. "Don't you worry your pretty lil' head over some fifteen-year-olds havin' drama."

She screwed her face up at him. "You're not allowed to start picking on him just to terrify him into continuing to date your daughter."

"Dammit." He teased. "Looks like I'ma have to write threatenin' notes an' leave them 'round the place then. He ain't fuckin' round with her feelin's."

"Ooh, Mika would hate you." Carol said. "Overprotective Dad Mode, initiated!" She announced in an official-sounding voice.

"You're a nerd." Daryl scoffed and headed out the kitchen door, whistling for the brindle dog. "I'm gonna see if I can't bag a deer this afternoon. Be back before dark."

"Take water." She suggested. "It's still ridiculously hot out there."

"See you later." He nodded and accepted the bottle she held out for him as the dog raced up to him, wriggling in excitement at the prospect of going hunting.

"Stay safe, Pookie!" She sang.

"Nine lives." He gave her a parting half-smile and shut the door behind him.

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><p><strong>Really, though, I have a biology exam in twenty-three hours... Encouragement is accepted in the form of reviews :P<strong>


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